


Her Knight's Duty

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Series: When Life Gives You a Blight ... [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4101496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roland Gilmore knew he had to hold the doors … just long enough for Regan Cousland and her parents to escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Knight's Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the Human Noble Origin storyline in Dragon Age: Origins. I miss Ser Gilmore :( This ended up being WAY longer than intended. (I’m actually posting this w/out proof-reading, so please forgive any minor grammatical or spelling issues. I just wanted my brain to shut up) (Also, I don’t THINK there’s anything that would be triggering, but if it happens to be, please let me know & I’ll go back in and tag it)
> 
> SFW (I think there’s maybe one or two sort-of cursewords, but nothing else)

Maker, he couldn’t wait for Howe and his men to be gone. He knew it was unkind to think so poorly of the teyrn’s friend – someone who had fought side by side with Bryce Cousland and King Maric to free Ferelden from Orlais, but he couldn’t help it. He just did not like the man. At least he wasn’t the only one. He knew the Cousland’s youngest didn’t care for the man either. 

Roland Gilmore couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his face as he thought of her again. He half-listened to the various conversations around him as he sat at one of the tables in the knights’ mess hall, replaying moments from earlier in the day. From quite literally bumping into her in the corridors, to fighting rats in the larder, to the few kisses to celebrate the minor victory, the afternoon had been a surprisingly pleasant distraction from his duties. He always enjoyed their time together; he just wished there could be more of it. 

“You showing off for that warden fellow tomorrow, Roland?” Andrew dropped into the seat next to him. When the older knight nodded, Andrew grinned. “Mind terribly if I partner with you a time or two? I have no doubt the warden wouldn’t be interested in me, but if he does take you, I’d kind of like one more training session?”

“If they took Jory, their standards can’t be that high. You might actually have a shot, Andrew,” Redmane interrupted. “Your good luck charm going to be there?” He elbowed Roland in the back, a smile that fell somewhere between mocking and sly on his face. “I’ll bet she’ll look right nice hanging on the fence cheering her … teacher … on.”

Roland froze, ears momentarily growing warm. He could have sworn they kept their less professional interactions hidden. Could Redmane actually know something, or was he just making a stupid comment? Before he could respond, Patrica piped up, “How do you think her ladyship will do running the castle once the teyrn and teyrna are gone? Think she’ll be as strict as her ladyship?”

“She didn’t yell at us when she caught Frederick, Gloria, and me playing cards,” Harris admitted sheepishly. He ignored the disapproving smirk from Roland and shrugged. “Just said that we shouldn’t make it a habit.”

“Lady Regan will do a fine job of running the castle in her parents’ absence.” Roland nudged the food around on his plate. He did his best to keep his tone level, to not let the thoughts going through his head show.

“Bet you’re looking forward to her parents both being gone, ain’t you, Roland,” Redmane called out, laughing. “Think you might actually have a chance?”

“And just what’s that supposed to mean?” Roland shoved himself up and pushed away from the table with a glower. He practically stalked over to Redmane, hands clenching at his sides. “Well, ser knight? Are you insulting the young Lady Cousland’s honor?”

Redmane stammered unhelpfully and shook his head, opting to keep his mouth shut for once. He kept forgetting Roland was nearly a head taller, until the red-head came close. 

“I think you’ve earned a shift at the main gates this evening.” Roland cut off his tentative reply that it was his off night and shrugged. “Should’ve thought of that before you spoke so poorly of a lady.” He looked around and realized that the majority of the room was watching the pair. He sighed, wishing he’d just let the comment pass; he was probably overreacting. “I suggest getting some sleep before this evening’s shift starts … all of you.” He knew he needed the sleep, if he could. He just wasn’t sure he could stop replaying those moments in his head.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** Something had felt wrong all evening, and now he knew why. Helping the other knights barricade door after door, trying to keep Howe’s men as bottlenecked as possible, Roland felt his insides knot. So many dead already and the invaders just kept coming. His men had managed to collapse walls and barricade doors to the point that the only place Howe’s men could go as they came through the main gate was to the main hall, and that door was currently being held shut by five of his men. He didn’t know how many had made it into the castle before they could block the other passages, but judging by the sounds, it had been too many. 

He’d helped Duncan get Bryce to the kitchens; the family’s best chance of escape would be through the servants’ tunnel. Fergus was already safely out of the castle; he and his men had left almost immediately after the evening meal. He still had not seen either of the Cousland women and it was all he could do to keep from running through the castle searching for her. She had to be safe. She just had to.

Too late, he remembered there was another entrance to the hall. The door burst open and a small horde of invaders pushed their way in. He had to get that door shut! Roland fought his way over, laying waste to as many intruders as he could. He could hear the others fighting behind him; screams of pain mixed with anger and frustration to the point where he didn’t know who was making what. But it didn’t matter. 

With a grunt, he knocked the last attacker out of the way and slammed the door shut, knocking the bracing beam down to secure it. He turned just in time to avoid a rather large battle-axe, stumbling backward until he bumped into someone he’d feared he wouldn’t see again. They only had the briefest of moments to share a relieved smile before splitting apart to deal with the rest of the men in the room. 

It wasn’t until he saw her blade slice into the last man’s throat that he lowered his sword and barked, “Man the gates. Do not let another one of those bastards through!” He watched as some of the remaining Highever knights went to work barricading the door the Couslands had entered through, before rejoining the rest of the men and women around the large double doors leading to the main gate. Others busied themselves moving the bodies of the fallen – Highever knights to one side, Howe’s men to the other. It was only then that he allowed himself the chance to look at her. It took all he had not to sweep Regan into his arms right there.

She, however, didn’t seem to care. With a sob, the young woman launched herself at him, nearly tackling him as she cried. “Rory, thank Andraste you’re alright.” She buried her face in his neck briefly before pulling back and looking him over. “You … are alright, aren’t you?”

He … didn’t quite know what to do … what to think. She’d never hugged him like this in front of anyone, least of all her mother. But he didn’t stop his arms as they wrapped around her, practically cuddling her against his bloodied armor. He could see Jasper out of the corner of his eye, working with the men moving the bodies. If he hadn’t known the dog so well, he would have been surprised. “Don’t worry about me,” he managed to whisper before glancing up at her mother. He couldn’t quite read her expression, but … she didn’t look like she was going to rip him to shreds. Of course, that could have something to do with a small invasion going on. “Thank the Maker you’re both alive. I was certain … Howe’s men had gotten … gotten through.”

“They did get through,” Regan snarled, eyes watering again. “They killed Oren, and Oriana … and Dairren … and Landra and Iona … and … and ….” She started rambling, listing name after name of the dead they’d come across, talking over her mother’s attempts to find out if he, or any of the survivors, were hurt. 

“We’ve had losses, your ladyship.” Roland spoke softly, not exactly loud enough to drown out Regan’s litany of the dead, but enough so that the teyrna could hear him. “Ser Andrew and Ser Patricia fell just before you arrived. He listed a few others before glancing over his shoulder at the men holding the main doors. He could hear the sounds of something large trying to break through. He met Redmane’s eyes for a brief second, noting the fear that he was sure echoed in his own. “But do not worry about me, your ladyship. I’m just glad you three haven’t been harmed.” 

He brushed a soft kiss against the top of Regan’s head, feeling his ears grow warm under the teyrna’s gaze. “As soon as I realized what was happening, I … had the men bar the doors to try and keep more of Howe’s men contained, but … you need to get out of the castle, and quickly.” He felt hands gripping at him, felt arms holding tighter, as if afraid to let go, and could do little else but hold her for one more moment. 

“Come with us,” Regan practically commanded, finally pulling back a bit. Her heart was near in her throat, tears starting to trickle down her cheeks. She knew, no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise … she knew what he was planning. “Rory, come on! We need you with us. I … I need you with us.” She was begging; something only one of the knights had ever seen before. Even Jasper seemed to encourage him to go; the mabari nosed at his hip, trying to direct him to move.

Roland didn’t budge. He held her, buried his nose in her hair … closed his eyes and breathed in, ignoring the coppery smell of blood that permeated everything and etched the faint scent of roses and melon that still clung to her in his mind. He knew his duty, and would stick to it. No matter how much he’d rather …. “If I do that, Regan,” he soothed, “you, Jasper, and your mother won’t make it out of here before the gates fall.”

She wasn’t bothering to fight the tears any longer. Clinging tightly to his arms, Regan had to fight back sobs. “You won’t come with us,” she whispered, feeling her heart break.

“I can’t.” His voice was gentle, barely above a whisper … meant for her ears only. He held her to him, stroked a gauntleted hand against her hair. “I … I wish I could, but I want to make sure you have time to get out.” He forced himself to ignore everyone else’s eyes; he knew they were all watching, having the rumors that he’d hoped to avoid confirmed. But now, it didn’t matter. Gently, he tilted her face up to his and kissed her softly, savoring what would likely be the last moment they had together. What he wouldn’t give to just have more time, more chances … just … more.

“I … I love you, Rory.”

“And I, you, my dear Regan.” He had to fight to keep his voice from breaking as he held her one moment more. With a sigh, he released her and stepped back, the shadow of responsibility … of duty falling over his face. “The last I saw your father, he was headed for the … kitchens - the servants’ entrance.” He gently urged her toward her mother, thankful when Jasper took over herding duties. “Go, quickly,” he instructed, feeling the adrenaline building again as he ran to the main doors. “My men and I will give you time to get out.”

“Get those blasted doors open! Kill everyone in your way, but the Cousland bitch is mine.” 

Eyes widened as a familiar voice boomed from the other side of the door. “Regan,” Roland all but shouted, aware of the fear that lined his voice. “Go, now! Temmerly is here, and after you!” He watched, heart breaking a little as Harris lifted the bar long enough for the trio to escape the room. A few of the archers helped throw more furniture in the way to slow any pursuit down as much as possible. The kitchens weren’t far; they’d get out safe.

Howe’s men were doubling their efforts, hitting the door with something … likely a battering ram of some sort. Roland braced his shoulder against the door, Redmane coming to position behind him. Back-to-back, the pair stood with the others, bracing the door as best they could. Splinters flew through the air with each hit, causing the knot in Roland’s stomach to grow tighter each time. Just needed to hold out a little longer.

“For what it’s worth, you two would have been good together.” Redmane gave him a half-hearted smile as the door groaned and cracked against their efforts.

“Thanks.” 

Any further reply was cut off as the door shattered. Men and women were knocked back by the blow, some further and harder than others. As best they could, the Highever knights fought, blades and arrows flying, but no matter how well trained they were, under the flood of Howe soldiers, they could do little but delay the inevitable. Roland was running to aide a fallen Redmane when something hit him from behind. His last thought before darkness claimed him was of her, hoping she’d be wouldn’t mourn.


End file.
